


Known Better

by kalonscounter (SeaCollides)



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Ficlet, Headcanon, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, POV Second Person, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27875690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaCollides/pseuds/kalonscounter
Summary: Bitter around the bones.You're sorry that you did this to him, but changes are permanent in this frozen world.-Headcanon that humans can be turned into Impostors (and Black is never going to forgive himself).
Relationships: Black/Cyan (Among Us)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Known Better

**Author's Note:**

> You saw the summary, yes? 
> 
> Been a while since I've written Among Us!
> 
> There's like a tiny tiny sprinkle of worldbuilding here, and I might add onto this one-shot if people like it. Imagine Purple with a plant on her head.
> 
> F in the chat for this couple- despite being my Among Us OTP, I just love hurting them...

You slam your fist against the metal wall, feeling your knuckles bruise.

You never thought the situation would escalate. You were- like you always ended up being- wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

Purple is apologizing. Why is she apologizing?

“We’ll try to save him. I promise.”

Save who? He’s _gone._

“He’s- he isn’t gone,” Purple breathes, and you can see tears in her amethyst eyes. “Don’t _say_ that.”

You’ve said it aloud on accident. This time, it’s your turn to apologize. Purple accepts it without question.

“Where,” you croak, throat as dry as the barren planet floating somewhere in that navigational telescope, “where is he?”

“Healing.” Purple vaguely tilts her head towards the direction of Medbay. “His condition is getting better, but…”

“Purple, what do I _do_?”

She chews on her lip, sharp canines digging into her flesh. “We have to teach him, like how you taught me.”

“That was decades ago,” you grimace. “He won’t like it. He’ll never forgive us- me specifically.”

“He will forgive you,” Purple promises, but you can hear the unsteadiness in her voice. “He has to.”

A loud clatter and a clash throws you off the conversation. Purple hurries to Medbay and you follow closely behind her, your head hung lower than it has ever been before.

You can see him. He’s snarling on the floor, clutching his head as he jerks involuntarily with pain.

Cyan.

But that’s not Cyan. That’s an Impostor.

He’s replaced the real Cyan. This was your doing.

“Let- me-” Cyan’s used-to-be-cerulean eyes are now bone-chillingly red. Redder than the blood you’ve spilt, redder than your former leader sharing its namesake.

“Cyan! Calm down!” Purple cries out, and you see tendrils of spiky wood shoot out from her space suit. It wraps itself around Cyan, locking him into place. The thick thorns don’t puncture his skin.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! I’LL KILL BLACK!”

You stand by the doorway, not daring to go in. Cyan knows better than to ignore your amplified presence. He snaps his sea-hawk gaze on you.

“Your fault,” he hisses, venom dancing on his tongue. “This is all _your fucking fault.”_

“It was my mistake,” you calmly reply, but your feel a fissure cracking over your chest. “All in all, it has been done. Cyan, you have to face the reality you’re in.”

“That I’m one of you?” he spits, and there’s ice forming across the visor where his breath hits the glass. “A disgusting monster? A lowly fucking murderer?”

Purple tries to stop Cyan’s outburst. The crew can’t stay asleep forever, they’ll wake up anytime soon.

“We aren’t murderers,” Purple quietly refutes, but Black knows better than to say anything. The truth should be accepted, no matter how cold.

“ _Liar_ ,” Cyan growls, and for once you agree with him. Frost begins spreading across Purple’s wooden confinements wrapped tightly around his appendages. It chills the ground, too.

“Cyan, listen to me.” You have to talk some sense into him before it’s too late. You may have lost the original Cyan, but you cannot lose him again.

“You either follow our directions, or we kill you right here, right now.” Unfortunately, you’re bluffing. You’d never kill him. He’s too precious.

Cyan glowers at you, the red in his eyes intensifying severely. “I’d rather die than work with scum like you.”

He’s lying. Purple knows this as well, because no one with a death wish has that much resentment in their soul.

“Cyan. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But Black, you should apologize first.” Purple places her insistent gaze on you.

Apologize? How many of these do you have to make today?

But Cyan deserves the world, so he must deserve your sincerity. You drop onto the ice-cold ground with your hands on your knees, begging to be forgiven. You’re even saying your please and thank you’s. He has to give you a second chance.

Cyan stays silent, but he’s not hurling curse words at you. You take it as a temporary truce. Better than nothing.

“First off… every Impostor has different abilities. Cyan, yours is probably-”

“-ice,” you cut in. “Purple has her tree roots. I have knife proficiency.”

Cyan stares. “That’s lame,” he finally says. Before anyone can react, a sharp _zip-plunk_ is heard and there’s a hunting knife embedded centimeters away from Cyan’s feet, blade dug inches deep into the metal ground.

“Come again?”

Cyan snaps his mouth shut. You will the weapon to fly back into your hands, which it does without complaint. (That’s one thing you like about knives. They adhere to universal laws.)

You say, "The rules are simple. We do not get caught when killing, and we do not kill unless prompted to.” You can already sense Cyan’s confusion growing.

“In actuality, there’s not a lot of us,” Purple sheepishly provides, twiddling her thumbs. “Most of us were turned into Impostors like you. We shed our old self for a newer one.”

“Metaphorically,” you add.

“Metaphorically,” Purple confirms. “We only kill if we have to survive as we are spread thin across the galaxy. If a human spacecraft lands where we reside, we destroy it. They’ll take all our resources if we don’t.”

“Who says so?” Cyan grumbles, and you have to patiently remind yourself Cyan has only recently lost his humanity.

“I do,” you sigh. “And only Impostors who are born Impostors can turn a human into one.”

“In simpler terms, you,” Cyan snaps, and you tiredly shut your eyes.

“You also lose the ability to age, so there’s that,” Purple nervously inputs amidst the smoldering tension between you and Cyan.

“Well, fuck you, Black.” Cyan says with much less animosity than before. He has calmed down significantly, his previously blazing eyes slowly returning to their original shade. He’s by no means completely stabilized, though. You sympathize.

“It was an accident,” you decide to insist. “I’m sorry.”

You truly are. You didn’t mean to do it.

Cyan doesn’t reply, instead choosing to clumsily freeze off Purple’s constraints. None of you stop his retreat from the Medbay.

“Black,” he starts, tone emotionless but brittle, “I’m never forgiving you for this.”

You had wished he would. (But the truth should be shouldered, no matter how brutal, painful, or heartbreaking it is.) You simply acknowledge his words with an understanding look before watching his backside leave the room.

“I hoped for the better,” Purple murmurs. “At least eliminating this team is easier now.”

“You know I don’t care about that.”

She slowly turns to look at you, gingerly picking up some frozen branches in the process.

“You should,” she eventually answers, shaking her head. “You used to be so enthusiastic about killing.”

“Maybe I’ve lost my touch. Maybe I’ve gotten old.”

“We’re all ageless here.”

You choose to stop replying, instead focusing on the bits of ice coating the wooden bindings.

“Is it too late to regret what I’ve done?” you ask.

Purple shrugs half-heartedly. “I thought you already did, right from the start.”

“Perhaps.”

You pocket a branch. The ice doesn’t come off, nor does it melt.

“His hatred towards me is the complete opposite of what I expected.”

“Oh?” Purple prompts, raising an eyebrow. “How so?”

“It’s cold.”

It’s unyielding.

It doesn’t burn, but it bites.

And for some reason, that makes it so much worse.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually writing another CyBlack fic titled as 'Lucidity' from Cyan's POV, it's very loose but fun to write and I hope future readers will give it a go (when I publish it of course!).
> 
> Comments/questions are super appreciated! I love to know what readers think.
> 
> Oh, and if you plan to ask how to turn a human into an Impostor... well, it's completely up to you to decide :)
> 
> [writing carrd for updates (it's slowly getting outdated but who cares)](https://seacollideswriting.carrd.co/)


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